


Someday

by Cameo (CameoSF)



Category: Wizards and Warriors (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameoSF/pseuds/Cameo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric and Dirk relive what might have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday

Dirk Blackpool opened his eyes for what seemed the millionth time and saw only stone. It surrounded him in the form of walls: blank, dank, gray stone walls without windows. The wooden door should have made a pleasant change, but it was blank, dank, gray, and securely locked from the outside. He'd tested it the first half million times, before he'd grown too weak to leave his pallet. He had no reason to believe it had unlocked itself since then.

The room's only decoration, if it could be called that, was a series of glowing symbols on the wall above him. They weren't in any language he knew, but he recognized them from his long association with wizardry. They formed a spell of some sort, and judging by their ability to glow brighter the longer he lay there, it was a powerful one. It had somehow placed him in this small unknown cell without food, water, clothing, or any memory of how. For that matter, Dirk wasn't exactly clear on the when, why or by whom either.

At first he'd been merely furious, but stone walls didn't respond well to kicking or screaming. After that he'd had to concentrate on survival. The lack of food he could endure through willpower, but the lack of water was another story. If not for the shoddy workmanship of his prison and the fact that it apparently rained a lot, he might have been dead by now. When water began dripping down one wall and pooling on the floor, Dirk barely hesitated. He drank it out of desperation and prayed to various gods that it wouldn't kill him. It didn't, but it had made him deathly ill. The sicker he got, the thirstier he got, the more water he was forced to drink, the higher his fever rose. He'd lost count of the days soon afterwards, especially since there was no natural light by which to judge the passage of time.

Before the fever had set in, he'd gathered together all the loose straw on the floor to make a hard, thin bed. It had been nearly as uncomfortable as the cold stone, but he didn't feel it anymore. His body was so hot, he'd tried more than once to pull off clothing that wasn't there. In moments of delirium he'd clawed at his skin, but he was fortunately too weak to do much damage. After a few frantic moments he would fall back on his pathetic pallet in a swoon, lost in dreams and nightmares till he woke again, even more disoriented. His one clear thought was that this couldn't go on much longer, not if his mind as well as his body was failing him.

************

Erik Greystone went first up the hill, more out of exuberance than leadership. He wanted to investigate the strange tower they'd come across; Marko wanted to skirt it and keep going. His arguments should have been persuasive - it was an unnecessary risk, they'd have to leave the horses behind, it would delay their return to Camarand - but Erik had gotten his way, as usual. That was one of the perks of being a prince.

The hill rose almost vertically for about fifty feet, so they roped themselves together for the climb. At its peak rose the tower, another fifty feet in height, but presumably it would have stairs. When they paused at its base to catch their breath, however, Marko pointed out the obvious.

"There's no door," he stated.

"There has to be," Erik replied, refusing to be daunted. He circled around the tower to the left, while Marko went to the right. They met back where they started. Erik looked up at the edifice in exasperation. "Who builds a tower without a door?"

"Someone who doesn't like visitors?" Marko suggested.

"Or someone hiding something."

"Or that."

They circled the structure again in opposite directions, then stopped. Erik drew his sword and, with a glance at his faithful vassal, raised it high. "I demand entrance," he declared to no one in particular. No one in particular responded. "In the name of Greystone, I demand entrance."

"Try invoking Baaldorf," Marko said, impervious to the look his companion bestowed on him. "Then how about Traquill? Maybe he can get us in."

"You think it's a spell?" Erik eyed the blocks of stone in front of him. "All the more reason to find out what's inside. Marko, see what you can learn from the locals. I'll keep trying."

While Marko went in search of wildlife, Erik walked once more around the tower, pounding on it at intervals. The stones seemed perfectly solid. He peered upwards in hopes of spotting an accessible window, but the façade was blank. He scanned the ground for signs of a trapdoor, but the earth appeared untouched. Finally he returned to the beginning. Checking that Marko wasn't within hearing distance, he leaned closer to the wall.

"Please, may I come in?" he asked.

"Murray here says you have to not want to get in," Marko suddenly said from behind him. Erik spun around. "That's the only way to do it." He indicated a squirrel sitting at his feet and ostentatiously ignoring both men. "He does it by running up the side as far as he can go till he loses his balance and falls in. He also says there's nothing inside worth bothering with. What?" Marko listened to the squirrel chitter for a moment. "Unless of course we're interested in the man imprisoned on the top floor."

"The what?" Erik glanced at the rodent, but it evidently considered the subject closed. It ran off down the hill. "Okay, how do we _not_ want to get in?"

Marko shrugged, then stepped forward and gave Erik a shove. With an exclamation of surprise, Erik found himself falling backwards through the wall. At the last second he remembered to grab Marko's arm and pull him through as well.

The inside of the tower was dark, so they immediately lit the lamp they had with them. Its dim light revealed a circular staircase, spiraling into the unknown, and not much else. Erik drew his sword again and led the way up. Marko followed out of habit.

It was a long climb with nothing to see except stairs and more stairs. After ten minutes or so they relaxed; there didn't seem to be anyone in residence to challenge them. When they reached a door at the top, they halted. Naturally it was locked. Marko reached out to give Erik another shove, but the prince neatly side-stepped him and swiped at the metal with his sword. The lock fell to the floor with a clang, and the thick wooden door swung inward.

The first thing they saw inside was a number of symbols glowing brilliantly on the far wall. Then Erik recognized the man lying motionless beneath them. He started to rush in, but Marko held him back.

"Wait, it could be a trap," the latter warned.

"How? He's unarmed." Erik had already noted that the other could not be concealing any weapons; he was completely naked. His finely muscled body shone with sweat "He must be ill or injured." Re-sheathing his sword, he knelt beside Dirk and felt his forehead. He was dangerously hot. "Dirk? Dirk, can you hear me?"

************

Dirk awoke for the million-and-oneth time to see a large figure looming over him. It resolved itself into Marko, the overgrown servant who accompanied Dirk's arch-enemy wherever he went. An instant later Dirk realized the phantom crouching beside him was in fact Erik, and he groaned.

He'd been visited by other apparitions over the last few days. His father had come, accusing him of treachery, along with several distant and dead relations. Some of his other enemies had turned up, but Dirk hadn't been too affected by their threats since he was on the verge of expiring anyway. The only visitation he'd reacted to viscerally was the spiders, and by then he was too wasted to do much more than faint. None of his hallucinations had really alarmed him, till now.

"Dirk?" Erik's voice said. "Are you hurt?"

"Why you?" Dirk muttered. He'd rather have faced his deceitful wizard Vector. "Do you wish me dead too? I thought you only wanted to stop my evil reign."

Erik raised Dirk's head, and fresh water was held to his lips. At least it tasted like fresh water; Dirk marveled at his subconscious's attention to detail. He could even smell the leather of Erik's swordbelt.

"He's burning up," Erik stated quietly. "I think he's dying."

"Not the brightest illusion I've had, but certainly the prettiest," Dirk whispered. He rather enjoyed the startled look on the other's face.

The specter dropped him and stood up. "We can't leave him here."

"We can't carry him down the hill either," Marko pointed out. "Anyway, he looks like he wouldn't survive the trip. The kindest thing would be to put him out of our misery."

"Kill him? I can't do that."

"Glad to hear it," Dirk remarked. "You've reaffirmed my faith in do-gooders."

"Then what do you have in mind?"

Erik knelt again. Dirk was very aware of a cool presence nearby, and he was suddenly grateful it was this one rather than any of the others. He wished the blond prince were real, but he'd settle for what he could get.

"I'm staying with him, Marko," the image of Erik announced. "He may be dead by morning. I can't just leave him alone. You go tend the horses, spend the night on the ridge. Come back for me tomorrow. If Dirk is alive, we'll figure out what to do. If not…"

"I'm not leaving you here with that murderer," Marko told him.

"Go ahead," Dirk said. "I can hardly attack him in my condition." His voice was fading; he was no longer sure he could be heard, but the situation called for commentary.

"Do as I ask, Marko. Please," Erik said. "I'll be safe here. Leave me your water bag and the lamp. I'll make him as comfortable as possible till the end."

If Marko argued further, Dirk missed it. He slipped into darkness against his will, and was pleasantly surprised to find the vision of Erik still there when he came out of it. The vassal had gone, and Erik had taken off his over-tunic to roll up as a pillow for his patient. Dirk appreciated the thought, even if it was his own.

"Who did this to you?" Erik asked. He held the water pouch to Dirk's mouth again, and Dirk swallowed readily. It felt like ice trickling down his hot throat. "How long have you been here?"

"If you don't know, I certainly don't." Dirk laughed shortly. "Or I should say, if I don't know, you certainly don't. Even I can't endow my fantasies with knowledge I don't have."

"What?" Erik leaned closer, frowning, and Dirk managed to raise one hand to stroke his hair. He seemed so somber and concerned, and so real. Dirk frowned too.

"How odd," he breathed, "that you should come to me looking like this. In my dreams you always appear the way you were at school… Young, innocent… trusting." He caressed Erik's cheek as he pondered the mysteries of his psyche. "Perhaps I don't want the boy you were then to watch me die. Or perhaps I don't want to believe that boy would want me to die."

"Dirk…" Erik said helplessly. "I don't want you to die, I swear. What can I do to help you?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. Whoever did this knows their magic." Dirk glanced up at the symbols on the wall.

"If it's a spell, it can be broken."

"Be my guest."

Dirk had to stop talking. His head was spinning from the mere exertion of focusing on his phantom visitor, and his mouth was dry again. He sipped a little more water, then closed his eyes.

************

Erik laid Dirk back against his makeshift pillow and struggled to hide his emotions. He hadn't thought of their days at school - hadn't let himself remember - for years, because it hurt too much. Every time he pictured the boy Dirk had been, he resented more the man Dirk had become.

"If I could break the spell, I would," he murmured, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from Dirk's brow. Without his usual black leather, he looked very much like the boy Erik had once loved and admired. The man would never willingly allow himself to be seen so defenseless. "Even if it meant having to battle you for the next twenty years, I wouldn't want you to die like this." He backtracked when Dirk opened his eyes and met his directly. "It's _you_ who wants _me_ dead, isn't it?"

"No… Well, sometimes, when you make me really angry…" The other's black gaze softened. "But as soon as I see you, I don't want you dead. I just… want you."

Erik's heart skipped a few beats. "What?"

"Perhaps that's why you're here, so that I can tell you…" Dirk closed his eyes again, but when Erik placed one hand against his face, he nuzzled it deliberately. "I could never tell the real you how much I miss you, how much I hate you for…"

"For what?" Erik whispered, leaning closer. He'd never imagined Dirk saying these words.

"For loving me. For loving me and then stopping."

Erik froze. He knew what Dirk referred to, but it hadn't happened that way, not from his perspective. "I stopped loving you because you decided to return to your family and continue their war with mine. We didn't have to fight. We could have made peace, spared hundreds of lives, for the sake of our friendship."

"Friendship? I thought it was something more."

"It was. It could have been." Erik bit his lip. "Dirk, I loved you. I didn't want to stop. I just couldn't love someone who'd dedicated himself to evil."

"And I couldn't love someone who'd dedicated himself to destroying me."

"Not you, just the terrible things you did."

Dirk was watching him again, eyelids half lowered. His skin was pale even with the fever, and his hand shook when he lifted it to Erik's shoulder. "I loved you. You were the only person I ever loved… and the only person who ever loved me… Afterwards, after you left me, I had to find other things to fill my life. Wealth. Land. Power. Mostly power. But they didn't fill the void. Nothing did. It was then I realized that the main reason I wanted power was to get you back, my Erik, one way or another." He formed a weak smile, and Erik's heart lurched again. He'd forgotten Dirk's private endearment for him. "I wanted to capture you, imprison you, and never let you go. Keep you with me forever."

"I want the same thing," Erik said honestly. "But not if evil has to win. I fight to defeat you, Dirk, so that I can save you from it, salvage your soul… I've missed you too."

************        

Dirk felt his words like a blow. He should have known his unknown jailer would not do him any favors by allowing this heart-to-heart. The apparition's touch suddenly infuriated him for its falsehood, and he tried to brush it away. "Don't lie. My Erik doesn't lie."

"I'm not lying. I loved you, Dirk, and when you turned from me I was stunned. When you fought against me, I was crushed. I hated you for tearing us apart."

"Then why are you here?"

"…Because no one deserves to die alone."

Dirk sighed. He was being perverse and he knew it, because there was no one else he would rather have with him as his life ended. He just wished it were really his Erik here, really loving him. Then he opened his eyes and the man looking down at him seemed to be just that.

"I've always loved you," Dirk told the vision. This time he was able to raise both hands to place on either side of that beloved face. He spoke to the clear blue gaze he'd once treasured above anything in his world. "More than I could ever hate you."

The other copied his gesture, apparently moved beyond words, then went a step further: he leaned down and kissed Dirk on the lips, tentatively at first, eventually with more assurance. Dirk almost stopped breathing, then decided he was light-headed enough already. This might not be happening, but it was his only chance to show Erik - any Erik - how he felt. He opened his lips and surrendered fully to the kiss. Somewhere he found the strength to return it, and to wrap his arms around Erik, to stroke his back. It suddenly struck him that he was naked, and he fancied he knew the exact moment it struck Erik as well. The latter's hands were all over him, cold against his overheated skin, sending chills through him for that and other reasons. Dirk slipped his hands under Erik's shirt and gloried in the feel of his ex-lover's body, and in the right to touch it again after all these years.

************

Erik undressed rapidly and without thought, too eager to join with Dirk to spare attention for anything else. He didn't dare lie on top of the weaker man, so he embraced him and rolled them both to their sides, where they lay face to face on their stony bed. Dirk resumed kissing his throat hungrily, and for several minutes Erik was lost in memories of their shared youth. He'd been innocent then, and Dirk had been so fascinating, so exhilarating. He'd been the stronger of the two and had always tried to overpower Erik with his personality as well as his body. Yet when they'd made love, his darkness had always succumbed to Erik's light, and it had seemed to Erik that he surrendered willingly. Nothing else had existed for them at those times, not family, not duty, not the future. Their love should have lasted forever; when it ended in a violent and irreparable rift, he wasn't sure who'd been hurt more.

He didn't want to remember that; right now he merely longed to re-live even a moment of their past before it was too late. Dirk's fevered body was pressed to his, but he seemed too weak to initiate the next step. When Erik reached down to grasp Dirk's member, they both gasped. Then Dirk's hand joined his in a combined grip on their erections, and together they began pumping. Erik held the other as close as physically possible, wanting to know the man as he'd known the boy, determined to imprint upon his memory every second of this night. When they climaxed he cried out in supreme joy, and kissed Dirk again as if making up for all the years they'd lost. Dirk returned it as if his salvation depended on it.

"I never stopped loving you," Erik swore when they paused for breath. "I just didn't know there was any hope…" He caught himself as he recalled their situation. "Oh gods, Dirk, I don't want you to die."

Dirk appeared exhausted. "I don't want to either, my Erik. I don't want to leave you… again."

"You won't. You wouldn't. You couldn't." Erik gave up protesting. He stared into his lover's eyes for several long minutes, unashamed that tears were leaking from his own. "I won't leave you, not till…"

"Thank you." Dirk managed a slight smile as his eyes fell closed. "Thank you for coming to me…for not hating me."

Erik tightened his embrace and let him rest there in his arms. When he stirred a short time later, Dirk did not, and Erik knew the other had passed out. He closed his own eyes and tried to sleep, but he was braced for any indication that Dirk's condition was worsening. At last, after hours of waiting, he dozed.

************

Dirk opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was blond hair on the pillow next to him. It belonged to the one person he'd never expected to wake up beside. As Dirk stared, memories of the night before crashed down on him. Two things stood out: he'd made love to his Erik again, and he had not died.

That brought him fully awake. The room was dim; the lamp still burned, but the symbols on the wall no longer glowed brightly. In fact they were almost undecipherable. Dirk studied them as he slowly sat up, his head clearer than it had been in days. It wasn't until he shivered that he realized his fever was gone. He still felt a bit delicate, but his strength was definitely returning. Without disturbing his bedmate, he rose and stretched, then drank half of the remaining water. Erik's clothes were lying scattered across the floor; without hesitation, Dirk put them on. Even the boots fit tolerably well.

Among Erik's other things was a nice bit of rope. Its presence there made it too easy: moving quickly, Dirk tied Erik's wrists behind him, then brought the rope down and bound his ankles as well. Erik woke at once, but not in time to stop him.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, jerking uselessly against his restraints. He met Dirk's eyes in shock, then blinked. "Dirk! You're recovered!"

"So it seems."

"How?"

"I don't really know," Dirk said, but he had a good idea. The only person of his acquaintance who had the power to cast such a spell on him was his beautiful Bethel, and it couldn't be coincidence that they'd recently quarreled. He'd ended their betrothal, not for the first time, but the witch had apparently taken him seriously. Her last angry words had been prophetic: love had cursed him; it had taken love to save him.

Erik meanwhile had gone pale. "What are you going to do with me?" he demanded. He looked as noble and honest - and as helpless - as usual, and Dirk had never cherished him more.

"Nothing. Marko will be here soon. I need to be gone before then. He'll free you."

"You're letting me go?"

"Yes. Even I can't turn on a man so soon after he saved my life," Dirk admitted. "But don't quote me on that."

"Dirk--"

Dirk knelt and put a finger to his lips. "My Erik, it was never possible for us, you know that. Last night happened because you believed I was dying and I believed you were a figment of my imagination. The people we are now cannot be together, not without bloodshed."

"You said you loved me," Erik reminded him. His gaze was earnest and open, and Dirk knew he would see it in his dreams.

"I do," he said simply.

"Then give up your alliance with evil and ally with me instead."

"That I can't do. Could you give up all that's good and fight beside me?"

"No… never."

"You see, it's hopeless." Dirk leaned down to kiss him deeply, and Erik returned it as if he couldn't help himself, as if it could be the last time. Then Dirk straightened, picked up the lamp and turned to go. He got as far as the door. Leaving his lover there was the hardest thing he'd ever done. "Don't stop trying."

"…Trying?"

"To defeat me. As I won't stop trying to capture you." Part of him wished Erik _could_ defeat him and force him to renounce evil.   He wondered how soon he would be struck down if he confessed such a thing aloud. Looking back, he lowered his voice. "Whoever wins, we both win."

The other did not find that reassuring. Blue eyes met his in sorrow. "I thought you'd changed… I thought we could make it work this time…"

Dirk paused, then made the only vow he ever intended to keep. "Not this time, but someday. I promise you that, my Erik. Someday."

Erik was silent, so Dirk finally left. He wasn't sure where he was, or how far from home, but sooner or later he'd get there. Once he did, his attention would be required on other things. Bethel would need to be dealt with, and there was no telling what mischief Vector had been up to during his absence. There would be no time to dwell on what had occurred between Erik and him. His heart ached at the loss, but it was the only way - until one of them could win their lifelong battle.     


End file.
